


The Baker and the Pie

by KayCey27



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayCey27/pseuds/KayCey27
Summary: Castiel owns a bakery and remembers every face he's ever seen. That is, until, he meets a man that flips his world upside-down.





	

Castiel has always noticed the customers that he’s had in and out of his café. It’s just something about his memory that allowed him to retain the images and personalities of all the faces that passed through. One time, a small child ran into his shop, no older than eight, and he put a bill on the counter before explaining he needed a birthday cake. Castiel remembered looking out the window and seeing the child’s mother in the car, a phone to her ear, and judging by the way she was moving and speaking, Castiel assumed the woman was yelling. He helped the boy, giving him more for his money, not minding in the slightest and had a worker help him out of the store and to his car so he didn’t have to carry the cake. Castiel would have helped the boy himself but he wasn’t sure that he would keep his temper with the boy’s mother if he did.  
There’s the woman that has the accent, one Castiel can’t separate between English and Irish. She’s a once-a-month regular that always told the same stories again and again when she was in. She would pick up the same things each time. Three loafs of bread, a pie, and she sits in the corner booth, drinking a cup of Earl Grey and eats a scone. She prefers speaking with the female workers in the café but occasionally, she will speak to Castiel personally.   
On a particularly grubby and slow day, Castiel had noticed one peaky man come in and buy a baker’s dozen of cookies which, Castiel assumed were all for the same man. That same day brought in a dark eyed brunette female with somewhat of an attitude to her, an overly talkative woman who’s hair was disheveled and a gentleman that seemed to want to look anywhere but at the worker who helped him out. Castiel wondered that man quite often simply because he was one of the more interesting character’s the store had seen.  
There was also the business man that always came to his shop every single weekday morning. He never strikes conversation with anyone, he never offers any yes or no and he always orders a coffee and a toasted bagel with crème cheese. Castiel’s favorite thing about this man, though, was the fact that he always paid for the order behind him. The first few times, he waited to the side and as soon as the total was given, he would wordlessly place his card on the counter in front of the patron and nodded to the cashier to take the payment. After a while, it became automatic. The workers knew to tell the customer behind him that the order was paid for and would take the business man’s card to swipe. He would almost always receive a thank you and this happened every single day, Monday through Friday as long as the café was open.   
Yes, Castiel remembered every single face that came in and out of his café. But there was one face that, to this day, he remembered even when he wasn’t trying. It was a rainy night, the café was closing up and Castiel was trying to pack up the remainder of the baked goods he would be able to use for tomorrow’s half off case. He was fumbling with a large sheet of saran wrap he was going to use for the top of an apple pie that hadn’t been touched when the door opened and shut rather quickly, a man darting into the café. In alarm, Castiel jumped and, at the same time, ended up clapping his balled hands together which, in turn, caused the thin material to crumple more.   
“D-damn,” Castiel growled under his breath so that the customer didn’t hear. “Hi there, sorry about the mess, we’re actually just about to close. Uh, what can I help you with?” Castiel allowed himself to glance up from the mess of wrap and he felt his train of thought flee with sight of the stranger. The man standing before him was a tall male that strode over to the counter, rustling water out of his sandy blond hair. Even in the darkened store, with some of the lights already off and the weather outside obstructing the late afternoon glow, Castiel could tell that the man’s eyes were a dazzling shade of green and freckles, though not the man’s most prominent feature, sprinkled along the man’s cheeks and nose. The man offered Castiel a smile and Castiel forced himself to smile back and neglect staring at him.  
“Sorry about that,” the man said in a gruff but, in a way, comforting voice, “I was just wondering if you guys sold any sort of cakes or pies? Preferably pie. I just moved in a few blocks down, I wanted to treat myself and see if I can get used to any of the local places.”  
Castiel nodded quickly and spoke just as fast, trying to unnerve his thoughts, “Yeah! Yes, uh, I have an apple pie left! It was baked today, I wouldn’t be able to make you another one now, but this is the freshest one we have…” Castiel had managed to toss the wrap away and he hastened to grab the pie and set it in front of the stranger before reaching under the counter for a box the store used for their to go orders.   
“Looks great,” the man exclaimed with another wide grin that Castiel couldn’t help but gaze at just momentarily. The man reached for his back pocket and Castiel shook his head, waving a hand at the man.  
“No, no. Don’t worry about it. On the house, consider it...consider it a ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’ present!” Castiel wondered if he was blushing because that, in his mind, was the stupidest thing he could have said. Nonetheless, the man grinned and nodded, laughing.  
“Well, thank you. I’ll be sure to come back in and pay for the next one. I’m Dean, by the way.” The man extended his hand and Castiel smiled politely, shaking the other’s hand.   
“It’s very nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Castiel. I own this café, I live upstairs.” Castiel wished he would just die. Why his incompetent mind found it necessary to explain where he lived was beyond himself. To his luck, though, Dean didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he looked just slightly perplexed with something.  
“Castiel….mind if I call you Cas,” he asked, drawing his hand back to place in his front pocket, just as the other one had been.   
“O-oh. Yeah! Yeah, that’s no problem.” Castiel smiled and nodded before nodding outside, “It’s…it looks bad out there. You walked?”   
“What in the Lord’s name was that,” Castiel thought to himself as he gave a feeble grin. Was his mind so desperate to keep the conversation on the stranger that he resulted to absolutely ridiculous comments like discussing the weather?  
“Ah, yeah. It really wasn’t any problem though,” Dean said with a smile, shrugging. The plaid shirt layered under the thick Carhartt jacket was dry though the hide of the latter was sprinkled with little droplets of water, “I really do only live a little away. It’s an easy walking distance. Besides, I always kind of liked the rain.”  
Castiel nodded at this and smiled, sliding the pie a little closer to Dean, “Well, the box will help the pie from being ruined. I mean, not saying it’s ruined or that it’s a bad pie but trust me, the fresh ones are better. When you come in next, I’ll make sure to have a fresh slice ready for you?”   
Dean smiled at this though Castiel was shocked at his own boldness towards the man. “Absolutely,” Dean said, nodding and grabbing the box, tucking it neatly in his arm, “What time do you guys open?”   
“Oh, seven-thirty in the morning. The first pie is finished cooking at about nine, though.” Dean nodded at this and headed back towards the door, carrying conversation as he went, “I’ll keep that in mind. I think making it here by then won’t be an issue. Anyways, it was nice to meet you Cas. I’ll see you around sometime later this week?”  
Castiel nodded and Dean flashed another grin, confirmed with a, “Good,” and left but not before giving, what Castiel hoped he didn’t mistaken, a wink. Castiel stood planted very firmly on the spot for a good minute, his mind’s eyes focusing intently on the face of the man that just stood before him. All the freckles and those damn eyes. And his voice. Castiel could live off a sound of a voice like that.  
After a good moment of self-concentration regarding that man, Castiel turned and began finishing up. Dean was his name. Dean was promising to come back. As Castiel worked, he found the process quicker than usual but at the same time, it dragged and he found himself longing for the next day. That was the most memorable face he’d ever seen. That was the most memorable customer he’d ever have.

 

Much to Castiel’s pure amazement, Dean made good on his promise. The next day, wearing the same Carhartt jacket as the previous, wearing the same dazzling grin and striding in with his bow legged walk, Dean struck up a conversation with Castiel. He explained that he had thought most of the night about the fresh pie, not knowing how it could be so perfect when the one he’d had was the best he’d ever tasted. This made Castiel grin wider than he’d felt he’d ever done so, as well as blush which he didn’t feel the need to compress.  
Castiel gave his thanks and offered Dean a slice of pie immediately, walking it to him personally at the small table off to the left of the counter. He waited patiently and Dean gave an almost inaudible groan, chewing slowly. Castiel tried not to stare but Dean eventually caught his eye and grinned.  
“Holy hell, Cas,” Dean finally managed, shaking his head at his plate, “It’s the perfect slice of pie. I applaud you. The best apple pie I’ve ever had in my entire life and that is saying something because I have had a lot of apple pie.”  
This had caused Castiel to smile more but deciding he probably looked like an idiot, he tried to compose himself and shrugged, “Well, there’s more where that came from.” Castiel didn’t notice till he was behind the counter that the way he cocked his hip on his previous sentence to Dean that it might have been a little too flirty. Then, Dean still came up to Castiel afterwards and explained he’d be back the next day for another slice. After getting the hours of the pies readiness so he had an accurate time slot to be in and out, Dean left with another unmistakable wink to Castiel as he went.  
The rest of the day, Castiel thought about that face and for once, he did not remember all of his customers. They were all blurred and distorted. All Castiel could think about was one burley man wearing a Carhartt jacket and a face sprinkled with freckles and a dazzling smile. If he wasn’t greeted with those, he didn’t care and he was unfocused. Castiel himself didn’t notice, though because as far as he was concerned, all this man was, was more service for the store. At the end of that night, as Castiel sat in his office to begin his work for the books, his mind kept wandering momentarily from Dean. Below him in the room, he knew there was a slice of pie that had been left from the day, waiting to be recycled for tomorrow’s day. Castiel couldn’t help but think about it. When was the last time he’d actually had a taste of his own pie? He’d had that recipe since before he was even in culinary to start this business. Castiel considered this a minute before closing all his books and getting up to go get the pie. He was days ahead of his work, it’s not like he didn’t deserve a break.   
The smell of the pie reheating in his microwave after he got back to his flat made his mouth water. He forgot how sweet it’s individual scent was, how the sweet of the brown sugar melded with the sour of the apple and swam with the warmth of the cinnamon. After Castiel was sure the pie was ready, he pulled it from the microwave and retrieved a fork. He settled back in his office, studying the slice, smiling softly at his own work, his own craft. The crust was beautifully golden with flecks of the cinnamon throughout the pie. The apples still had a vivid green color to this skin and the way they even snapped a bit when he dug the fork into it. The bite, especially that first bite, was pure bliss. It was sweet, it was equally tart, it was complicated and perfect and every bit of it was perfect.   
Each bite he took, he continued to think about Dean. He wondered about those eyes, about his freckles. He wondered if Dean even cared or thought about him the way he thought about Dean. Why he thought about Dean though, he didn’t know. All he knew was that there was nothing, absolutely nothing he wanted more than to see that face every single day until it was absolutely impossible to see him anymore. 

 

Ever since the first day Dean stepped into Castiel’s café, he came back every single day. The times varied and, in a way, it excited Castiel because he loved the little surprises. To further Castiel’s pleasure of seeing Dean, every time Dean left, he winked at Castiel. This caused his stomach to flip inside him and he couldn’t help the grin that plastered to his face each time and stuck around for at least ten minutes. It was Castiel’s favorite part of the day whenever Dean came to visit.   
Finally, there was a day where Castiel was up early, earlier than usual, making an apple pie. He didn’t know why but instinct told him to do this because the bagels and donuts weren’t the only thing that should be ready this early, at least, not on this day. His staff wasn’t even there yet, it was just him, just his work, and his phone played soft classic rock music that he would never annoy his customer’s with, though he himself personally enjoyed it. The sun has barely broke the night when there was a knock on the door of his shop and Castiel jumped. Upon looking up, he saw Dean standing there, hands in his pockets, a wide grin on his face. Castiel felt his chest warm up and he smiled just as brightly, going to open the door for Dean, shutting it as well, making sure it was locked so no other outsiders could wander in before opening.   
“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Dean Winchester,” Castiel asked with a smile as he walked back around the counter to lay the top crust over the pie and then sprinkle just the right amount of cinnamon on it after a brush of butter.   
“Nothing special, just…just figured I never exactly got a little alone time with you. I was hoping you’d be here. I’d like to talk to you if that’s alright.”   
Castiel was in the middle of putting the pie in the oven when his hand faltered in excitement but he hit his hand on the top of the burning coils as he did. He gasped and hissed and dropped the pie in the oven before pulling his hand back quickly.   
“S-shit,” he whispered and he tried to favor his hand out of Dean’s sight but Dean had to have heard the curse and came around the counter, reaching for Castiel.  
“Whoa, Cas, you good? What happened?”   
Castiel was torn between admiring the concern Dean had for him or wincing at the searing pain in his hand. He reached a hand out and closed the door, noted the time so he knew how long the pie would bake and then turned to Dean, shaking his head, “I just, uh…I just burned my hand on the oven.”  
Dean furrowed his brows and took the wrist of the hand Castiel was holding close to him and brought it forward, looking at it warily, “Geez, that looks bad. Where’s your first aid kit?”   
“Uh, through that door,” Castiel nodded to the side door, “to the right, on the far wall.”   
Dean led Castiel over to the sink and opened the tab so a thin stream of cold water trickled down before he placed Castiel’s hand under it. Castiel winced just a bit but Dean turned and went to go get the first aid kit.   
“I’ll be right back,” Dean said as he walked away and the door shut behind him, leaving Castiel with a hand in the water. Castiel stood there, heart and head completely spinning at the idea of what Dean wanted to talk to him about. He was gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw, and his eyes darted around as he thought, ideas flashing about. What if it was something serious? What if Dean had found someone with better pies or, even worse, what if Castiel’s pies just didn’t do it for him? What if they’d made him sick?  
“Don’t be stupid,” Castiel thought, shaking his head, “There’s no way he’d be here if that were it. There’s no way he’d care that much.”  
It had only been two months since Dean had started venturing into the store daily and Castiel felt like he was being completely stupid. Then again, he couldn’t help but wonder what was so important this….gorgeous man needed to speak to him about face to face?  
Castiel was just about to yell at himself because of his idiotic thoughts when the door opened again and Dean came back carrying a small pouch of burn cream and a wrap. He smiled warmly at Castiel as he shut the water off and held his hand out for Castiel’s burnt one. Castiel obliged, placing it in Dean’s.  
“Well, this isn’t exactly how I was expecting to spend my morning with you,” Dean said with a deep chuckle, flashing his dazzling grin at Castiel, “but at least it guarantees us time to talk. I’m officially deeming you my patient and I am going to fix your hand.”  
Castiel chuckled at this. “Where’d you get so good at fixing up baking battle scars?” Dean’s touch was insanely light. He was smoothing the burn cream over Castiel’s hand and it was so light that, aside from the initial pain, Castiel barely noticed. Dean laughed at this and then shrugged, glancing at Castiel. Castiel swore Dean held the gaze a moment before he spoke.  
“Well, I work on cars all day, since, you know, mechanic,” Dean shrugged and took the bandage and began wrapping Castiel’s hand, focusing on it, “You learn things. Especially if you burn your hand on a hot engine or spoiler. It sucks but you learn some things like how to be extremely careful with burns and how to take care of them. This is probably going to blister, by the way, so just don’t be alarmed.”  
Castiel gave a feeble smile, mostly because he was nervous, he was shaky and he didn’t really know what to do or think or say. He was simply nervous and he desperately just wanted to know what the hell Dean wanted to talk about. When Dean was finally done, Castiel took his hand away and set it behind him a bit on the counter, looking up at Dean, unable to take it anymore.  
“You…said you wanted to talk?” Dean smiled and nodded, clearing his throat, looking a bit nervous but he didn’t back away whatsoever.  
“Yeah, yeah. Uh…so, I wanted to ask you something and I kind of hope to God that I’m not being so bold about this.” Dean looked nervous all of a sudden and Castiel waited patiently, not speaking, not moving, just looking at Dean kindly and…waiting.  
“I was just, uh, wondering if you wanted to maybe go to dinner with me one night? Friday, maybe? I figured…’Hey, he’s not a bad baker, he’s not bad looking, and that ridiculously adorable grin he gives me when I wink at him—‘” Castiel felt his face burn and he couldn’t help but grin which, in a way, made his face burn again and worse. This, in turn, made Dean smile and he shrugged, stepping just a bit closer, looking at Castiel with those horribly gorgeous green eyes.  
“Is that a yes,” Dean asked with a smile, green eyes meeting blue. Castiel shrugged and nodded slowly, gazing at Dean.   
“Well…you kind of just saved my life so, yeah I suppose so.” Dean laughed along with Castiel and Castiel leaned forward, kissing Dean on the corner of his mouth before pulling away with an even bigger grin, “Thank you, by the way. For the help and everything.”  
“Nah,” Dean said, shaking his head, this time, his face was the one that was glowing faintly red, “don’t worry about it. You got up extra early to bake me a friggin’ pie. Almost like you knew I was coming?”  
Castiel laughed and walked around Dean to start cleaning up, not saying anything about him being behind his counter still. All the more, he had a better look at Dean’s ass this way. He shrugged after a minute and flashed a grin at Dean, speaking, “Just a hunch. Maybe we have some sort of…profound bond.”  
This solicited another laugh and grin from Dean and Cas beckoned him to sit, getting the a couple of donuts out of the case and set them up for them to have breakfast, pouring Dean a cup of coffee before joining him. For the next hour, Castiel got his wish of staring at those dazzling green eyes and the only face he cared about was the one those eyes belonged to.


End file.
